Vignettes
by dear cecil
Summary: A collection of unrelated, 100 word pieces. Ratings will be marked at the top of each.
1. Chapter 1

#1, rated M: Engineer, Spy.

* * *

There is no room for words in the short space between them, but the Engineer tries to fit them in anyway, mouth pressed to the Spy's skin, lips betraying feelings best kept secret but which force themselves past his tongue and teeth. His efforts are met with hisses, with a hand on the back of his neck tugging him closer, with hips rubbing against his. Warm skin, slick with sweat, slides together; quiet slaps echo throughout the room with movement; sheets rustle; the mattress creaks. Spy's grip is as sharp as his groan when he finishes, pulling Engineer with him.


	2. Chapter 2

#2, rated K: Scout.

* * *

Scout wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, staring up at the sun with squinted eyes as he treads through the dirt lot. The crunch and slide of the ground beneath his cleats is achingly familiar. This is the last place other than home he'll go before he leaves—there's nothing left for him in Boston but his ma and his record. He kicks home plate, brings up his pop's old bat, adjusts his grip. Tosses his baseball up one-handed. Swings as hard as he can.

It clears the fence, and he leaves it there.


	3. Chapter 3

#3, rated K+: Medic.

* * *

The line of people waiting to step onto the train seems miles long. Hunched, shivering, most of them dirty, they each march into the different compartments, women clutching their families close; couples staring into each other's eyes as though the outside world is merely an illusion; babies wailing over the noise of the crowd; polished soldiers standing stiffly around them at all times, ushering them with quiet authority, expressionless.

Medic digs his fingers into his eyes until white images dance before his vision, then opens them, blinking against the harsh light of his office. He silently reburies old, useless memories.


	4. Chapter 4

#4, rated T: Sniper, Demoman.

* * *

Sniper wakes up to the feeling of another body pressed up near his. He is met by the sight of Demoman's face next to him, slack with sleep, eyepatch removed. His arm is laid, perplexingly, over Sniper's waist. Sniper tries to understand the situation, but his mind is uncooperative. All he can comprehend is the taste of cheap, American beer in his mouth and an ache—

And then it all makes sense. He stiffens beneath Demoman's arm, and his breath catches when it moves, rubbing slowly over his side. "We'll talk about it in the morning," Demoman mumbles.

"…all right."


	5. Chapter 5

#5, rated T: Sniper.

* * *

Erin clings to her lover as they lay together in the darkness, cold, stiff. They say nothing to each other; their entire world is touch. The light rises and they do with it, standing perhaps even closer together than in the night. "I love you." The words float between them, acknowledged but never said; they have their entire lives to figure out how to say them.

Or so it seems. A hand descends from the sky, breaking their solitude and tearing him from her grasp, and finally he screams as he is shot from a bow.

"Fucking arrows," Sniper mutters.


	6. Chapter 6

#6, rated T: Soldier, Scout.

* * *

"I'll tell you about a real hero," Soldier says, clapping a hand onto the Scout's shoulder, forcing him down. "Teddy Roosevelt, now, there was a man. He went to Cuba with a horse, bashed some skulls, didn't take shit from anybody. Even got shot and kept talking—"

"Look, I don't really care—"

"—for nearly an hour before he went to the hospital—"

"—about your stupid hero shit—"

"—and didn't give a damn. You should care about this! Men like him, they're what this country needs."

"Yeah, and you ain't ever gonna be one."


	7. Chapter 7

#7, rated M: Demoman.

* * *

Demoman stumbles into the base at two in the morning, barely finds his way to his room, and is met by a vision of loveliness. She lies in his bed, plump and pale and ready, turned to him and watching, watching, eyes half-shut with lust. He does not question the occurrence; instead, he crosses himself in a sloppy salute and tugs his clothes off, tripping over his pants. He crawls into the bed and embraces her, lips everywhere at once, pressing kisses to her soft skin. They sleep together.

In the morning, he realizes that it was only his pillow.

* * *

ALTERNATE ENDING 1:  
In the morning, he realizes that it was the RED Spy.

ALTERNATE ENDING 2:  
In the morning, the Scout finally takes his long wig off.

ALTERNATE ENDING 3:  
In the morning, he sees that it was Jane. "Fuck yea."

ALTERNATE ENDING 4:  
In the morning, he and Pyro share breakfast: Toast, eggs, bacon.

ALTERNATE ENDING 5:  
In the morning, Engineer groans. "They were right about you Scots."

ALTERNATE ENDING 6:  
In the morning, Medic hugs Heavy. "Ja, I do enjoy roleplay."

ALTERNATE ENDING 7:  
In the morning, Saxton laughs. "I see that my disguise worked!"

ALTERNATE ENDING 8:  
In the morning, the Loch Ness monster leaves his room silently.


	8. Chapter 8

#8, K: Sniper, Spy

* * *

Sniper stares at his team's Spy. He is standing stock still, staring at one spot on the wall, jaw clenched. Sniper approaches (slowly; always go slow with frightened animals) and raises a brow. "What is it?"

"Une araignée," Spy murmurs.

Still confused, Sniper looks down. "That little thing?" It is a spider, dark brown, smaller than the tip of his pinky finger. "It's nothing."

"Je déteste—" He catches himself. "I hate them."

Sniper shrugs, takes off his hat, and moves the spider outside. Spy visibly relaxes, and he silently tucks a cigarette into Sniper's breast pocket. "Merci."

"My pleasure."


	9. Chapter 9

#9, rated T: Sniper.

* * *

Mordecai is his pride and joy. His feathers are sleek, beautiful; they transition perfectly from light tan to dark brown. His eyes are gold, sad, so different from his wickedly curved beak and sharp talons. He dominates the air when he flies, wings spread wide, aching to touch the sun and taking out the anger over his limits on their enemies; rejoicing in the tearing of flesh, in the shedding of blood.

Sniper keeps him by his side, but it is only in battle that they are truly connected. "Sic 'em," he orders quietly, and Mordecai's shriek pierces through everything.


	10. Chapter 10

#10, rated T: (Fem) Spy, Engineer.

* * *

"Merde," Spy cries out, batting wildly at the air. "Merde, merde, get it away from me, mon dieu, it is a fucking monster—" She takes cover inside of her base, shivering with fear as the giant bird's screams follow her, echoing throughout the hallway. She hears scrabbling on the dirt and leaps up, cloaks, runs down the hall with quiet sobs.

"Ingénieur," she cries out as she sees the man's nest, "the bird!"

"Bird?"

"The Sniper's!"

"I ain't never seen no birds out here."

"It is out to get me!" She clings to him.

"…girl, you need some help."


	11. Chapter 11

#11, rated T: (Fem) Scout, (Fem) Sniper, (Fem) Demo, (Fem) Spy.

* * *

"All right, you bitches tell me where my hair dryer is, and I probably won't smash anybody's face the hell in."

The BLU Sniper and Demo look up, frowning. "What?"

"My hair dryer, girlie," Scout says to the Sniper, "where's it at? I know _you_ didn't use it, your hair's all ratty, but _somebody moved it_ and I need that for my _hair_ so it can _dry_."

"No one knows, Scout," Demo says, sighing. "Besides, this happens weekly. You've just got a shite memory."

"Screw you." She flounces out, and the cloaked RED Spy has to bite back her laughter.


	12. Chapter 12

#12, rated T: Scout, Engineer, Medic.

* * *

"Goddamnit," Scout mutters. He storms into the main room of the base and glares at his teammates. "How the fuck did my balls drop?"

"I… What?" Engineer stares at him.

"You heard me, Tex, how the fuck did my balls drop?"

"It is natural," Medic cuts in before Engineer can respond, eyebrows raised. "Are you really so ignorant that you do not understand this? It happens to all men. It is inevitable."

"Well, it ain't supposed to happen to me!" Scout slams his hand down on the table. "Now I gotta pick 'em all up!" He storms out.

"Oh… baseballs."


	13. Chapter 13

#13, rated T: Engineer.

* * *

Engineer runs his fingers over the strings of his guitar, savoring the sound it makes, a certain sort of slide that he can't describe. He's had the old girl for years. He can still remember the day he got it: He was sixteen, bored, needed something more to do. He had figured it would be a good way to attract women.

Now, as he sits by his lonely little fire, strumming a tune that comes without conscious thought, he shakes his head. It had worked, but where was his girl now? Six feet under, only alive in song.

Goodnight, Irene.


	14. Chapter 14

#14, rated M: Soldier.

* * *

Soldier buries his shovel into the neck of his enemy like it's the blade of a hatchet, grinning as blood splatters onto him. The rush of combat is all he needs in life, he thinks, as he grips a second enemy by the collar and throws him down, leaping onto the squirming boy like a lion onto its prey. Each punch he throws makes him feel lighter; his victory cry as he rolls off of the corpse is as much for intimidation as it is to let out the sheer joy that threatens to burst from him. This is freedom.


	15. Chapter 15

#15, rated T: Medic.

* * *

"This will only hurt a bit."

It is a lie that Medic has told countless times, but there is no time he cherishes the statement more than when his blood runs hot and adrenaline courses through him. The look on his opponents' faces when they see him, grinning down, bonesaw hovering just above their flesh, is exquisite.

He relishes power. Lusts after it. There is nothing more gratifying, to Medic, than being able to say "I am in control" and to have it be true.

When he runs behind Heavy, he can experience it without consequence.

It is not enough.


	16. Chapter 16

#16, rated T: Demoman.

* * *

Tavish kisses his mother's cheek before he leaves, smiling easily as she lectures him, right up until the point where he's standing in the doorway and reassuring her, for the last time, that he will be fine. She thinks he is going to his third job, but when he shuts the door, he sighs. The drive is short.

The embrace of the bottle is all Tavish wants, or thinks he wants. It's easier to deal with liquor than it is to deal with women. It's easier to deal with the haze than it is to deal with his cluttered mind.


	17. Chapter 17

#17, rated T: Pyro.

* * *

Pyro sits in his darkened room. The television is on; an old episode of Star Trek is re-running. He knows every word.

His eyes are on his hands and not the screen. A short, white candle and a Zippo lighter he nicked from the Spy are his true sources of entertainment. The wick lights up quickly, and he drops the lighter beside his feet, holding the candle on his palm, concentrating on keeping it still. Hot wax drips down, pooling in his hand, dripping down through the spaces between his fingers, and he smiles.

This is where he finds beauty.


	18. Chapter 18

#18, rated T: Spy.

* * *

The Spy stares at the door of his bedroom, leaning back on his small bed with a cigarette dangling loosely from his mouth, unlit. He twirls his balisong in his hand—lets it drop, flicks his wrist; the safe end hits the back of his hand and he twists it, fingers nimble; the blade is out and up, his hands uncut. He does this over, and over again, legs crossed at the knee, listening only to his own breath and the clacking of the metal as it moves. The BLU base is boring. His team fears him.

He is lonely.


	19. Chapter 19

#19, rated K+: Sniper.

* * *

"Put Mum on the phone," Sniper says for what feels like the hundredth time, pinching the bridge of his nose. His father does this every time he calls.

"Can't see why she'd want to talk to a lunatic like you."

"Dad—"

His father grunts, and there's the sound of the phone being passed over, followed by a short, nerve-wracking moment of static. His mother's voice fades in during the midst of it, and Sniper relaxes. "Evening, Mum."

"What time is it there, honey?"

Sniper checks his watch. "A bit after four in the morning."

His mother is worth it.


	20. Chapter 20

#20, rated M: Scout.

* * *

Scout closes his eyes. It's easy to pull his thoughts away from the base, from his team, from anything that has to do with BLU or RED or any of that shit… especially when his door is locked and he's on his bed, sunlight pouring in through the tiny window near the ceiling and his pants kicked off and left on the floor. His whole body felt tired on the way to his room. Now, with his hand down his boxers and his blankets piled up, he suddenly feels full of energy, and has nowhere to spend it.

"Goddamn it."


	21. Chapter 21

#21, rated K+: Heavy, Scout.

* * *

Heavy sits in the main room of the base, reading glasses perched on his nose. The book feels small in his hands, and its pages are old; dark brown lines show where it has been dog-eared, creased; a child's handwriting—his handwriting—lingers in the margins, unsteady. He runs his thumb over a footnote proclaiming that the protagonist is an idiot, then flips the page and reads on.

"Hey Fatty," Scout greets carelessly, invading Heavy's personal space. "The hell are you reading, space code?"

"Book of faerie tales. Is Russian."

"Aren't you a little big for those?"

Heavy just smiles.


End file.
